Harry Potter and the One Winged Angel
by Chaos Silk
Summary: His first impressions of the kid were 'Oh Bahamut, they've stuck me with a miniature Zack.' He hoped to whoever was listening that he did not act like him, or he would end up killing him in the first year. FF7HP xover, mild slash. Being Rewritten.
1. Prologue: Do you regret what you did?

Disclaimer: Oh yes, I own a copy of each of the series mentioned, however I don't own the actual idea. Not making money off of this, characters belong to their respective creators/companies.

AN: Sooo.... after a year of not updating, I finally decided to revise this fic. It just did not fit my current writing style, which made it hell to write updates for. So, after a bit of thought, it's being rewritten completely. Hope you enjoy it *bows*.

Second AN: This Sephiroth is... a bit more violent and dark than the Sephiroth before. It only goes to show how much my writing style has changed.

Warnings: Cloud/Sephiroth mentioned. Child abuse, violence, all that good stuff. OCs at the beginning, but don't worry, they're only there to help clarify the situation.

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"Do you truly regret what has brought you here?" The deep voice boomed as yellow eyes peered down at him. Sephiroth squared his shoulders, silver hair fluttering in the non-existent breeze as he stared down death itself.

Did he regret it? He thought about it for a second, closing his eyes as he considered. He had killed many people, often in cruel and brutal ways, in his lust for power. Of course, it hadn't really been his lust, but that of the alien controlling his body. All he had wanted to do was inspire the strong into being stronger, strong enough to fight anything that might threaten the planet and their way of life, including him.

He would admit that he had enjoyed it, slicing up anyone who got in his way. The sound of their screams, the looks on their faces as they begged for their lives and then realized that there was nothing he wanted, nothing they could bargain with, the sound of bones cracking, of blood spattering the walls and finally, the silence that came afterward. He lived for it, and reveled in it. War was the reason why he had been born, why he had been created. There was no shame in taking joy in killing.

"No." He answered, catlike green eyes opening to stare into the yellow ones of the devil. He did not regret it, he enjoyed it, and he had come so close to succeeding in his secondary goal. He could not regret it, not when Cloud finally grew the backbone to stand up to him, to stand up for the world he lived in, not when Shinra was nothing but a red streak on the planet's surface. He had given the world a true hero by being a villain; he would not regret that. He was nothing but a monster anyway, why should he not have given them a reason to truly fear his name?

The voice laughed, yellow eyes dancing merrily. "We thought you might say that... So we have a little something prepared for you." The former General shuddered, feeling a chill run down his spine. "Since you're so good at raising heroes, we've decided to put you to the test."

"Test?" Sephiroth frowned. Usually when someone mentioned 'test' in relation to him, they meant an experiment that would have him scrubbing at his skin for days, or lying on his back, unable to move as the Mako burned through his veins.

"Yes, a test. You see, there is a boy we have been watching, in all the universes he has been in, he has been a hero of some sort or a villain, and never the usual common type of soul we encounter. He amuses us, and we cannot help but wonder, what would happen if we introduced you into the equation as his guardian."

Sephiroth's fingers twitched for the hilt of a sword that was not there. Loosely speaking, they wanted him to baby-sit and look after some brat that probably could not tie his shoes without his companions helping. Cloud had been like that too; completely dependent on his teammates until the final battle came about. Though, that hadn't been his fault, Hojo had made him like that, just like he had made....

Sephiroth shook his head, snarling slightly as he glared up at the eyes. It had been fun to play with Cloud, nothing more, there were no similarities between them. "Why should I agree?"

"Because if you succeed, you can have it all back, your life, your game, even your little toy. You just have to play by our rules for a bit."

"What do I have to do?"

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TBC

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Thanks to all for reading and reviewing.


	2. Chapter One: First Meetings

Disclaimer: Oh yes, I own a copy of each of the series mentioned, however I don't own the actual idea. Not making money off of this, characters belong to their respective creators/companies.

AN: Ahahahaha, some of you may be wondering 'Chaos, what the hell?', I decided to rewrite the fic. So if you haven't read the new chapter 1 –in reality the prologue-, I encourage you to read it now. Also, deepest apologies for the delay. Life came up, Chaos went down. Sorry for adding Arthur in here, I needed someone with a car and related to the order, and someone who would annoy Sephiroth hence: Mr. Weasely. Just a reminder to new readers: this is set shortly before Book 1.

Warnings: Anything new added, I will inform you here.

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When he had been standing before the 'judge' and informed of his new task, he had imagined a much grander role. A villain perhaps, or a teacher –since they had placed him in the school his 'charge' would be going to as a Defense teacher-. They had informed him, the yellow-eyed avatar laughing, that he already had a villain and a mentor, what he really needed was... a father.

He would play the part of teacher too, but his main job would be to watch the brat and to be responsible for his wellbeing. Sephiroth could not even be trusted to pay attention to his –subordinate's- well-being, and they were expecting him to care for this child's every want and need. Oh, he would do it, but he would make sure that everyone knew that he was less than pleased with the situation.

It was with this in mind that he had informed this 'Dumbledore' that the judges had sent him to that he would be taking the child from whatever guardian he had seen fit to give him to and raising him as he saw fit. If he complained, he would be reminded quite forcibly that the 'do no harm' law the judges had forced upon him only applied to children. Most probably in the form of a giant fireball to the face, as he was always fond of the expression one got right before their skin started to melt.

Dumbledore had agreed without one complaint, which had made the silver haired General suspicious, but deemed it beneath his notice until he found himself crammed in a tiny vehicle with an annoying redheaded man in the front seat. He fancied himself a bit of techno-wizard and yet did not know how a plug worked. It was.... maddening, especially since he would not stop talking.

"Then there's the...what did she call it, fellytone?" His chauffeur babbled, raising Sephiroth's ire with every word that dribbled out of his mouth. Not for the first time, Sephiroth really wished he had not seen fit to replace his 'Silence' Materia with 'Destroy'. For one, it was handier instead of more convenient.

"If you were not driving this vehicle, I would be crushing your larynx right about now." Sephiroth promised, debating on doing it anyway. If he could survive a dragon smacking him through a wall, he could survive a car crash. The redhead blinked. Sephiroth scowled. This was going to be a long seven years.

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They had finally arrived. Apparently his charge lived in a house in a cookie cutter neighborhood. He was vaguely reminded of the housing that was offered on Midgar's upper levels, everything looked the same. They were all so scared of being 'different' and attracting Shinra's eye, or the scorn of their neighbors. Sephiroth had mocked them then, and still found those similar to them laughable now.

Nodding once to the driver –who had finally been suitably cowed by Sephiroth's threat to strangle him with a telephone cord-, he got out of the car, black coat flaring dramatically behind him as he started up the walkway.

It was time to meet his charge.

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"Boy, get the door?" Vernon snapped as a loud rapping reverberated throughout the household. It paused once, then repeated. Harry jumped to his feet, hurrying to the door before Uncle Vernon saw fit to cuff him upside the head for not moving fast enough.

"I'm sorry...." He stated as he opened the door, stopping mid-sentence to stare up at the man standing on their doorstep, catlike green eyes narrowing as he stared right back. The visitor was tall, taller than anyone Harry had seen before, with –silver- hair reaching all the way down past his knees. He was dressed in black leather pants and a coat, bare-chested in the autumn weather. He was unlike anyone Harry had ever seen. For lack of a better word, he was just plain awesome.

"Boy, who's at the door." Vernon snarled from somewhere inside, the house shaking as he made his way to the door. Those strange green eyes left him to stare at his rather large, purple faced uncle before going back to him.

"Are you Harry Potter?" The visitor asked in a smooth, deep voice, completely ignoring the presence of the large, fat male blustering just within his field of view. Harry could only nod, awed.

"Get your things. You're coming with me." It was not a request, it was not a question and should he choose not to follow it, things would quite likely be very painful, that was the impression he got. Without even a word, he dashed towards his cupboard to gather up which few possessions he had. Vernon turned dark lavender with rage.

"You." he snarled, stomping up to the man, waving his large, sausage-like finger in the stranger's face. "I bet you're one of those freaks, aren't you."

"Kindly remove your finger from my vision before I remove your arm." The green-eyed man stated calmly, not even fazed. Vernon paled, shaking with rage.

"Now see here you." Before he could even finish what he was about to say, the stranger had grabbed his arm and twisted it in a way that arms could not be bent without breaking. He regarded the fat man with cold eyes.

"Consider yourself lucky." He stated as Harry scurried up beside him, eyes wide. "I'm not allowed to harm Harry in any way and that includes mentally. Now." He looked down at the scruffy dark haired boy. "Let us go." He walked back to the car, automatically assuming that Harry would follow.

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His first impressions of the kid were 'Oh Bahamut, they've stuck me with a miniature Zack.' He hoped to whoever was listening that he did not act like him, or he would end up killing him in the first year. The only difference between the two was the eye color, hair length and age. One would think this would have made him homesick, but really, in reality it was a reason not to miss home. After all, Zack was dead there too.

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TBC

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Thanks to all for reading and reviewing.

Continuing the tradition, this was written and posted around 1AM.


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